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She only huffs in disbelief and shakes her head, refusing to look at me. My blood turns cold and I struggle to breathe, but still I walk toward her. Every step is careful and cautious. I just want to hold her. I want to fix this more than anything.
I can’t lose her.
“Kat.” I say her name as if it’s my only prayer, but she doesn’t look at me.
As I crouch down next to her, Kat stands just to get away from me and it kills me. She wipes under her eyes then turns from me, giving me nothing but her back. The cup that was on the counter clinks as she places it in the sink.
Her shoulders shudder.
All I can hear is her heavy breathing as she ignores me. Moments pass, my hands clammy and my body hot. I don’t know what to say or do, but I stay. I won’t leave. I can do that at the very least. So I stand there, waiting and wanting her to tell me anything. I will wait forever for her if that’s what she needs.
“They broke in through the window,” she states with a shaky voice, followed by a deep inhale, and my blood freezes.
“Who?”
She shrugs her shoulders, turning to look at me with an expression of disbelief and answering sarcastically, “How the fuck should I know?”
“Where?” I follow behind her as she walks into the guest bathroom in the hallway. The second the door opens, I’m hit by the arctic air coming in through the broken window. It’s only a half bath and inside the sink are shards of glass.
“They didn’t take anything that I can tell.”
“What the fuck,” I mutter beneath my breath, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Were you home?” I should have been here. I should have been protecting her.
She shakes her head no, her hair sweeping along her shoulders as she crosses her arms to protect her from the chill. “I called the cops as soon as I got in. I knew something was off. They went through your drawers, by the way. You may want to check and see if you had anything in there.”
Fuck.My heart hammers as I stand there numb.
I don’t know who it was or what they were looking for. But if she’d been here … Fear is crippling. It’s the resolute tone of her next statement that forces me to move. “Are you going to fix that or should I call someone?” Her voice is flat and completely lacking in any emotion.
“I’ll take care of it, but Kat, please,” I beg her, forcing my legs to follow her back to the kitchen.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says without even looking at me.
“Kat, I need to know?—”
“If you want to talk, then tell me how jail was. How about that?” she spits back.
“Kat, baby, please?—”
“Don’t ‘please’ me, don’t touch me, don’t anything me,” she practically hisses, glaring over her shoulders as she opens a cabinet to get a clean glass then slams the door shut. Her eyes are rimmed in red, and she looks paler than usual.
She fills the glass with water and drinks down half of it with her back to me.
I want to reach out and hold her, but I’ve never seen her like this. Closed off and nothing but worn out and angry.
“Kat, I can explain.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was worried for a minute.” Her voice drips with sarcasm, her back still to me as she turns the tap on and refills the glass.
“Please, if you don’t mind, you could start with … I don’t know,” she says then shrugs and turns to face me, the bitterness in her voice never more apparent than now. “How about why I should give a damn about whatever excuse you have?”
My brow furrows as I take in her stance. She slams the glass down so hard I think it may shatter but it doesn’t. With her arms crossed again, she waits. Her hair falls in front of her face, hiding part of her tired eyes and she doesn’t bother to sweep it away.
“I don’t want you to be mad …”
She reaches behind her to grip the counter, her knuckles turning white, agitation showing in every movement she has. I know right then I can’t tell her what I think about James. I can’t tell her that I think someone was trying to kill me or that I’m bringing more trouble to her.
I have to be the man shewantsme to be.